


The Best

by AshesTheTerrible



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Shiro, Hurt feelings, M/M, Oral Sex, Role Reversal, Roleplay, Rough Sex, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-19 17:23:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13709145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesTheTerrible/pseuds/AshesTheTerrible
Summary: Lance is pretty sure Shiro completely forgot it's Valentine's Day. He wouldn't blame him, it's hard to keep track of time in space...but he really was looking forward to maybe a gift? A note? Something. ANYTHING.He get's more than just a note.





	The Best

**Author's Note:**

> Well I'm like two days late to the party but better late than never. Have some kinky Valentine's day smut! Enjoy, apologies for any errors as this is unbetaed.

Lance sat in the silence of the mess hall. There was nothing to keep him company other than the unappetizing bowl of food goo that was settled in front of him. He’d barely picked at it, pushing the slop around with his spoon more than he was actually eating it. He was only attempting because he knew his body needed the nourishment…not because it was in the least bit appetizing. Not that food goo was _ever_ very appetizing…

But it was late and he’d missed the prime time to catch Hunk cooking for the others. Whatever leftovers there might have been earlier in the evening had been scarfed down and he was left plum out of luck.

His eyes flicked down to the sad, green goop.

The sorry excuse for food mimicked his mood perfectly. Misshapen, gross and overall unappealing.

The blue paladin sighed into his meal.

It was the date that had him down, that’s what he wrote it off on anyway. He wouldn’t admit it to the others, he buried it in the typical Lance fashion. But the small earth calendar he kept safely tucked into the top drawer of his bedside table didn’t lie. He’d checked off each date with precision, following along with the rotation of earth even from so many millions of miles away. When he’d awoken that morning, he’d instantly reached for the worn little notebook, as he did every single day…ready to mark out another twenty four hours where he wasn’t home to experience it. But somehow it made him feel just a slight bit better, knowing what his family might be doing back on the blue planet.

He’d sat on his bed for just a bit longer, clutching the paper in his hand, eyes reading over the small wording lying atop the current date.

In bold little text, with two printed hearts next to it, there it was…how gross.

_Valentine’s Day._

Lance had harrumphed at the little reminder, displeased with it and tossed the calendar back into the drawer, he didn’t want to look at it a second longer.

What a stupid holiday anyway.

When the team met on the training deck to get the day started and Shiro paired up with Keith to spar, it was still a stupid holiday.

When they had taken a break for lunch and Shiro had sat down next to Pidge instead of Lance, it was an even more ridiculous holiday.

When the team had grouped in the control room to discuss the Galra’s progression in the current solar system and Shiro had been deep in discussion with Allura, Lance was pretty sure he hated the holiday.

When they’d settled down that evening in the lounge and Shiro was nowhere to be found, Lance just wanted the awful holiday to be over with.

He thought maybe, _just maybe…_ Shiro might remember. Even if it was just an acknowledgment of it that would have been enough for him. He’d waited with baited breath for the quiet moment Shiro might approach him, might slip him a note, maybe he’d picked something up at the last swap moon. It didn’t have to be anything big. Just something that let Lance know… _he was thinking of him._

Maybe that was the problem right there. Maybe Shiro _wasn’t_ thinking of him.

Lance’s chest felt tight.

It had been a month since Shiro had so much as brushed his hand and Lance was beginning to think that night…the night in Shiro’s room…the hot breaths and whispered words…maybe he’d imagined it all. Maybe he’d misread it as a one night stand and he was clinging to the hope that it was more. He didn’t have a problem with that…he just wished he’d have gotten the memo up front.

Then he wouldn’t have spent the day _waiting…_ for something…for _anything_ to happen.

He’d trudged through the entire stupid day, his feet feeling like they weighed a thousand pounds each and what did he have to show for it?

_Absolutely nothing._

Well maybe a bit of a broken heart and some hurt feelings.

Lance clinked his spoon against the metal of the Altean bowl.

Clink, clink, clink, **_clack_ ** _._

He’d dropped his spoon into the goo.

He sighed and fished the utensil out of the muck, wiping it off with his crinkled napkin.

The longer he stared at the food, the more disgusting it looked and the more nauseous he was getting. He was pretty sure that wasn’t just being riled up by the meal. He was swallowing down the biggest helping of Valentine’s Day blues he’d ever consumed in his whole life and it really wasn’t settling well with his stomach. Even in grade school at least he’d have gotten a nice little basket full of chocolates and a note from his mother.

Now he just got…goo.

Not even a card.

Or a stupid pre-written Valentine, the kind that were 50 cents at the grocery store.

He rested his slender chin in the cup of his palm.

_What a stupid fucking holiday._

The young man resumed the steady rhythm of the dining utensil against the bowl.

_Clink, clink, clink, clink._

Suddenly there was the touch of large palms on the rounds of his shoulders and a whispered _“Hey.”_ In his ear.

 _Clink, clink,_ **_CLATTER!_ **

The spoon dropped to the table, the young man letting go of it in a fit of panic, a small yelp coming forth from his throat.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” The big man followed up quickly.

Lance whirred in the direction of the new company, fingers clutching his shirt tightly, his heart still racing in his chest.

“Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?” Lance huffed as he tried to gather himself.

Lance instantly wanted to be mad. Not so much as a _“hey buddy”_ for the entirety of the day and then suddenly here the other man is nearly scaring him half to death. But Shiro’s concerned expression had Lance’s anger softening just slightly.

But only slightly.

He was still determined to be mad.

Lance folded his arms huffily and stared at the other man with a deadpan expression.

“No, I was trying to-…” Shiro began but Lance cut him off sharply.

“Trying to just waltz in here after ignoring me _all day_ and make small talk or what? Because I don’t have time. I was about to go to bed.” Lance said shortly.

If Shiro was going to forget what day it was, Lance was going to pretend he had too. He didn’t want to look like the sap that was upset over a dumb, made up holiday.

Shiro looked like a kicked puppy, his brows knitted together tightly and his lip downturned.

Lance’s jaw tightened.

His eyes scraped over the much bigger man and only then did he notice…Shiro had one arm behind his back. Lance swallowed hard.

_Oh no._

“I was…trying to give you these.” Shiro said softly as he took his hand from behind him.

Clutched in his Galra made fingers was a bouquet, none of the plants looking much like something one might see on earth, but regardless they were unmistakable as flowers.

Lance felt his heart drop down to his gut.

Now he just looked like a big, mean, monster.

The young man’s mouth opened, closed, then opened again, trying to form around the words.

_He felt like such an asshole._

“Oh my gosh…I’m sorry…I just…I thought… _you forgot.”_ Lance babbled as he tried to save himself clumsily.

“Y-you didn’t even look my way all day I just… _wow I’m a jerk.”_ Lance groaned into his hands.

Shiro laughed softly and it was the most relieving sound that had ever kissed the shells of Lance’s ears.

“I’m sorry. I just…wanted it to be special. Just the two of us.” Shiro explained, his eyes dark and soft and Lance was instantly melting down into a puddle.

The black paladin offered the menagerie of flowers to the other man and Lance took them with careful hands. Their leaves crinkled and folded gently under his fingertips as he cradled them. He brought the foreign plants to his nose and inhaled. They weren’t very sweet, more of an earthy scent that Lance felt himself getting lost within.

He peered up over the petals, meeting eyes with Shiro, the two holding each other’s gaze and Lance was so aware of the increased speed of his heart.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” Shiro chuckled as he leaned in toward Lance, his lips just barely brushing the younger’s forehead.

Lance sucked in a sharp breath.

Shiro’s palm was on his chin, digits sliding along the sharp of his bone. His hand coaxed the blue paladin’s head back ever so slightly and Lance couldn’t keep his eyes from hooding dazedly.

_Maybe this wasn’t such a stupid holiday._

“I know the flowers aren’t as beautiful as you…but it was the closest I could get.” Shiro mused into Lance’s hair.

Lance was butter…messy, liquid butter, running all over the floor under the influences of Shiro’s deep, throaty tenor.

Shiro’s breath was warm as it rolled down the side of Lance’s throat, all the hairs on the back of the young man’s neck standing on end as chills rippled through him. The big man’s mouth was on the curve of his left ear, lips soft, nose settled in the soft brown hairs.

“Do you want the rest of your gift?” Shiro growled low and dangerous.

_This was the best holiday in the history of forever._

Lance nodded languidly, finally processing the words that were being spoken to him.

Shiro’s hand was wrapped around Lance’s, so much bigger, strong and yet somehow gentle and Lance couldn’t possibly think of anything else other than how badly he wanted those palms all over him. He wanted Shiro’s fingers digging into the meat of his thighs, rough and possessive and mean. He wanted Shiro’s hands cradling his ass as Shiro hefted him upward with ease, back pressed against the wall, legs having nowhere to go but around Shiro’s waist.

A goofy, lopsided smile clung to the paladin’s lips as he fantasized, not really paying attention to where the other man was taking him.

Lance took a moment to gather his surroundings, eyes observing the world around him for a moment. He scrunched up his nose just slightly, forehead crinkling in confusion.

He’d expected to end up at the mouth of Shiro’s room, in fact he’d _hoped_ to end up there. Shiro’s room was a definite giveaway of the next part of his gift. He’d been sure that’s where things were heading.

His hopes of warm sheets and being bent over Shiro’s mattress dissipated quickly as he realized where they were.

They were at the hangars?

Specifically the black lion’s hangar.

Lance’s feet stuttered to a slow stop as Shiro coaxed him along to the mouth of the massive space. He cocked his head.

“Why’d we come to your lion?” Lance questioned as he looked to the great, dormant machine and then to its’ paladin.

Shiro cocked an eerily devilish smile, fingers tightening around Lance’s palm. With a gentle motion the other man tugged Lance toward him, the younger nearly tripping over himself.

And then he was right up against Shiro, the dark haired man crowding him, eyes slatted and devious.

“You mean _your_ lion.” Shiro purred softly.

Lance was even more confused than he was to begin with.

“Did you hit your head?” Lance huffed as Shiro brushed his lips against Lance’s chin.

Shiro laughed and shook his head.

“No. We’re _roleplaying._ Don’t tell me you don’t know how that works.” Shiro smirked as he ushered Lance closer to the lion.

Lance felt a ring of heat travel from his cheeks all the way down to the very tips of his toes. He wouldn’t have exactly taken Shiro for the type of person to be into that…or even know what it was…but he supposed stranger things had happened.

Lance barked out a laugh, trying to save himself from looking too caught off guard. It didn’t matter that the bright flush of his cheeks was giving him away.

“Of _course_ I know how it works. A little intro would have been nice.” Lance pouted as he paused at the mouth of the metal beast.

Black’s interior illuminated with the presence of her paladin, coming to life with the soft aqua glow.

Shiro’s arms wrapped around Lance’s frame from behind, curious fingers slipping up beneath the hem of the young man’s worn t-shirt. His chest pressed tight against Lance’s back, the bigger man’s mouth ghosting an appreciative little kiss to the space just behind Lance’s ear.

“So why did you call this meeting with me… _black paladin?”_ Shiro whispered to Lance breathily.

Lance swallowed dryly, like he’d forgotten how.

“We really need to talk about your performance in training today. It was lacking.” Lance tried to sound confident but the sentence came out shaky.

It was hard to keep his tone from wavering with Shiro pressing against him like that.

Shiro very gently prodded the other man forward, into the teeth of the Altean machine and Lance was pretty sure the sound of his heart was echoing through the room. It was so loud in his ears, booming in a wild, offbeat rhythm that had his head pounding.

Lance was suddenly very aware that he’d actually _never_ set foot in the cabin of the black lion. It was spacious, bigger than blue by a long shot. The weapon’s dashboard glowered softly, almost setting the mood for…whatever _this_ was. Shiro’s eyes glimmered with excitement as he led Lance around to the pilot’s chair. He very gently took the cluster of flowers from his partner’s hand and set them on the dash protectively. Lance warily watched them go, his prize, his much awaited gift…

Before Lance could protest, the big man shoved him backward.

Lance’s ass collided with the seat of the lion, the man letting go of a little sound of surprise.

Shiro leaned over him, arms caging the other paladin.

“Lacking, sir?” Shiro questioned giving Lance a sly sliver of a smile.

Lance sucked down a much needed breath and sat with his back a little straighter.

“Yes. Lacking. I know you are capable of better than that clumsy session.” Lance replied after clearing his throat a little.

“We need to always be ready for the Galra, that performance won’t do.” Lance tried to take on his most “shiro” like tone as he stared down his nose at the other man.

Shiro grinned, shifting his weight.

“Do I really sound like that?” He teased.

Lance laughed, his eyes glittering with admiration and Shiro adored that look on him.

“Oh absolutely.” Lance chuckled.

Lance felt his heart nearly sputter to a dead stop in the cavity of his chest as Shiro very gracefully sunk down to his knees before Lance’s open thighs.

“I was very disappointed blue paladin.” Lance continued, doing his best to look upon Shiro sternly.

Shiro’s wide palms spread out over the tops of Lance’s legs, the motion slow and easy, digits massaging into the sinewy muscle.

“I’ll do my best to shape up. I promise sir.” Shiro breathed, his voice was low, dipping down into a dark place that Lance hadn’t experienced before.

“How can I make it up to you?”

Shiro’s pupils were shadowed in the dim lighting of the lion, the beautiful glisten of purple just barely touching the whites of his eyes. Lance pinched his bottom lip between perfect, pearly teeth, orbs hooding as he shifted in his seat. He felt like a king upon his throne as he allowed himself to slip into the role of power. Shiro was offering it to him so willingly, it felt like an insult not to take it and run.

“Put that big mouth of yours’ to good use.” Lance huffed.

Shiro seemed amused with the commentary, eyes breezing over the length of Lance in a slow sweep.

“Yes sir.”

The obedient tone sliding off Shiro’s tongue had Lance’s toes curling. The sound of it resonated in his bones and rung through his head. It was good. _So good._

Lance sagged just slightly, watching with utter enthuse as his partner’s hands came to the catches of his old blue jeans. Part of him wished he’d worn something a little nicer to the occasion. But then again this wasn’t like they were on a date at some high end restaurant…and he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be needing his clothing for the direction this was taking. He was eager to get out of them honestly.

Suddenly the way his cotton shirt laid on his skin was too much. His flesh blazed beneath the thin material. His long fingers wrapped around the edges of the pilot’s seat, gripping the arm rests tight. His fingertips brushed against the very control mechanisms that Shiro relied on in battle. How many wars had the black paladin fought in this very position? How many times had he saved them all, given just the right orders at just the right time. What a weight to have on one’s shoulders. Lance imagined it was a heavy thing. But the Galra, the war…that was all slipping farther and farther from his mind as the feeling of skilled fingers undoing the button of his fly sent shivers running the length of his spine.

Lance watched the older man through bleary, heavy eyes, teeth worrying his lip, finding himself holding his breath as his zipper was drawn down painfully slowly.

Shiro’s eyes blinked upward, as if to make sure Lance was watching.

Indeed he was.

How could he possibly even consider looking away?

Shiro smiled with all his teeth and Lance had missed the way that expression made him feel. It had been so long he’d nearly forgotten, pushed the memory away for fear it was a single instance he’d never have again. But now he allowed himself to catalog it all to very detailed memory. He remembered the way it made him hot around the collar, he remembered Shiro’s fingers entwined within his, tight, as the big man had come hard, crying out obscenities and Lance’s name and _what a sound that had been._

He wanted to experience it all over again. He was hungry for it, _starving for it._

Shiro’s fingers traced over the strain in Lance’s jeans, well-worn material pulled taught as he was already left embarrassingly hard. Lance muffled a moan and felt the rounds of his cheeks fill with colorful heat. How pathetic, Shiro hadn’t done much of anything and he was already so pitifully needy.

He wanted to be embarrassed, really he did, but the way Shiro was looking at him wouldn’t allow him to be. The big man looked sickeningly pleased with himself as his thumb drew along the line of Lance’s cock, making an understanding little noise in the back of his throat.

“Look what you do to me blue.” Lance choked, trying to get a firm footing on his confident tone.

Shiro tilted forward then, leaning up on his knees, his jaw nestled between Lance’s legs. He nuzzled against the firmness of Lance’s need and Lance made a strangled sound.

“Is my apology to your liking so far black paladin?” Shiro asked, his mouth warm against Lance’s pants.

Lance nodded, as strongly as he could.

“It’s not the worst performance I’ve seen.” Lance said, his sentence broken and low.

Shiro tugged insistently on the hem of Lance’s jeans, tucking his fingers in his belt loops.

“Lift your hips.” Shiro purred softly.

Lance obeyed, even if he was the one that was supposed to be giving orders…it was hard to step away from seeing Shiro as anything but his leader, even in the heat of the moment. Even when they were like this. The first time Shiro had been so stern and rough with Lance, in a gentle way that made absolutely made no sense. But he’d been in control and now he was giving that graciously away. Lance liked it. The taste of it. Power was a dish he’d like to consume more often. It was thick and heady on his tongue and he just couldn’t get enough.

Lance was barely aware of his simple blue jeans sliding down his thin legs, his boxer briefs following close behind. The discarded clothing made a sad little pile on the lion‘s floor, abandoned and forgotten.

Lance shuddered with the sudden chill licking over his exposed skin. His inner thighs quaked as he pressed his back into his seat and clamped the flats of his teeth together hard enough to make his jaw ache.

Shiro took his sweet time in lacing intricate little kisses up Lance’s limbs, starting at his knee, appreciating the scuffed skin where Lance had taken a particularly hard fall during training. The flesh was bruised black, blue and yellow and Shiro seemed to appreciate it with great enthuse. He was the one who’d given it to Lance after all, he’d knocked Lance hard, surprising the young man and sending him tripping over himself. Lance hadn’t quite forgiven that yet.

“That’s your fault you know?” Lance snarled and Shiro’s eyes trailed up to meet with his.

“I’m sorry sir.” Shiro breathed as his teeth gently grazed the sensitive flesh of Lance’s inner thigh.

Lance let go of a sound that wasn’t quite a moan but wasn’t quite not. It was something in-between, not that dazed mewling that Shiro was hunting for just yet…but he’d get there. He’d drag it out of Lance by the end of the evening.

Lance stood hard and angry, his head deep in color, a glisten of pre-cum decorating his tip. Shiro eyed Lance’s predicament with enthusiastic pupils. Lance had such a pretty cock, he was going to make the young man fall to fucking _pieces._

Shiro very delicately allowed a puff of tepid breath to roll over Lance’s erection, the younger’s member flexing in sudden interest. Lance groaned, the sound coming deep from within his chest. He allowed his head to fall back on the seat, eyes falling closed in anticipation.

“ _Don’t tease.”_ He griped softly.

Shiro didn’t dare disobey a direct order.

His tongue extended, flattening against Lance’s underside, trailing up his length deviously slow. Lance’s hips twitched upward at the contact, mouth coming open in a breathy gasp. Shiro traveled to his fat head, lapping the tear of fluid up with an appreciative hum. The man’s lips parted, wet and warm as he captured Lance within them. The slow oval of his mouth worked down Lance’s shaft, taking him nearly to the bottom before backing off, only to go right back for more. Lance found whatever shred of daring he had left and mustered the courage to tangle his long web of fingers in Shiro’s short cropped locks.

“Fuck you have…a talented mouth blue…” Lance managed to huff.

Shiro hummed around Lance’s erection, his human fingers coming to join with his mouth, curling around the younger’s base while his tongue addressed the rest.

Shiro popped off Lance’s painfully rigid cock, a string of saliva dripping off his bottom lip.

“It’s not just good for talking huh?” Shiro teased lightly.

Shiro abandoned Lance’s cock with a playful kiss to his underside, fingers taking a final glide over the spit soaked member, causing Lance to squirm in place, his hips searching blindly for the heat of Shiro’s mouth. He whined when Shiro left him there, pulsing in the cool air, so hard he was sure it was making him light headed,

He wanted to bark his protest…that was until Shiro stood, careful hands working the catches of his belt apart. Lance’s eyes soaked each and every movement in with a ravenousness that did not go unnoticed by the other man. Shiro quirked a smile, making a bit of a show of it. His fingers were slow as they aided in undressing him, pulling off his belt, slipping off his heavy boots and allowing them to drop with two loud “thuds”. He stripped his top layer off in one very fluid motion, the pile of clothing on the floor growing. Lance wasn’t going to waste time with being the only one still half dressed. The younger struggled out of his own shirt, far less gracefully than Shiro.

Lance couldn’t tear his eyes away as Shiro hooked his thumbs in the elastic of his boxers and pushed the thin material down. His heavy cock sprung free, fat and eager and Lance was pretty sure he’d forgotten how to breathe.

The bigger man’s erection bobbed with his every motion and fuck Lance wanted nothing more than to be bent nearly in half with that cock buried so deep into him he’d taste it in his mouth.

But much to his surprise, Shiro didn’t seem interested in making Lance shift his position…instead the dark haired man was sliding onto Lance’s lap. His weight settled pleasantly over Lance’s legs, the young man giving his partner big, wide, confused eyes.

Shiro seemed to feel the need to clarify.

He ducked just slightly, palms sliding up to cup each side of Lance’s jaw.

“I want your cock in me black paladin.” Shiro purred lowly.

Lance was sure he felt himself go numb for a moment. He was suddenly feeling like he needed to drop to his knees and say a prayer of some kind.

Lance had no hope of conjuring up any kind of witty response and so instead he just nodded stupidly.

Shiro reached around the big seat, popping open a compartment of some kind, coming back with a small bottle of what Lance could only imagine was lube. Lance grinned slightly, he liked the idea of Shiro planning this so specifically, making sure they had lube at the ready.

“Ask nicely.” Lance finally found his cocky attitude from deep down in his depths.

Shiro gave Lance a pair of dark, needy eyes.

“Please sir.” Shiro whispered softly.

Lance’s hands only then dared to explore. Fingers slid down Shiro’s sides, gripping at the swells of his hips, traveling boldly to the hard muscle of his ass, taking a brave handful. Shiro pressed backward into the touch, egging Lance on, begging silently for more. The bigger man shifted, easing the cool lubricant into his hand before spreading it on his fingers. Lance drew in a shaky breath, watching with a hungry expression. He couldn’t get enough, it would never be enough.

Watching the massive man fuck himself open on his own fingers was a power high Lance had never experienced before in all his days alive. It was bringing something dark out from his bones, riling it up and it was an eager thing.

Lance squeezed on Shiro’s hips, mean and stern as Shiro’s fingers disappeared into his tightness once more. The man let go of a breathless sound and it was beautiful on Lance’s ears.

“Nice and ready for me?” Lance asked as he leaned forward, burying his nose in Shiro’s neck.

Shiro nodded lazily.

Lance sunk his teeth into the flesh of Shiro’s collar as the big man lifted, one hand aligning Lance’s cock. Shiro sunk down with a breathless sigh, taking Lance’s head. A loud groan was ripped from Lance’s diaphragm. Shiro was tight, _incredibly tight._

It was like electricity between them, Lance’s choked groans feeding Shiro’s interest. The stretch was good, it had been a long time since he’d been like this. But he was eager for Lance, eager for them to come together, eager for that sweet pleasure that came from being so nice and full.

Shiro was heavy as he settled, working down on Lance’s cock and the expression etched in the older man’s brow was _gorgeous._ All the stars and planets and wonders could take a back seat to the way his brows pinched, his mouth hanging barely open just wide enough to breathe Lance’s name.

Lance’s eyes rolled.

It sounded so good on Shiro’s tongue.

So breathless and tattered and _pleased._

Lance’s hips rolled upward, experimentally pushing up into the body atop him. Shiro’s eyes parted, dark slivers as he soaked Lance in.

“Your cock feels so good Black.” Shiro snarled, one big arm resting on the back of the pilot’s seat to steady himself.

Lance made a pitiful sound in response.

His head was nothing more than a jumbled mess, thoughts jamming together, everything short circuiting with the feeling of being _inside of_ Shiro.

He was tight, and warm, silky with lubricant and Lance could hardly process it all.

Shiro grinned, nice and slow and satisfied, clenching his muscles around Lance’s breadth as he lifted slightly, only to roll back down, dragging a loud, unbridled moan out of the younger man.

Lance’s fingers tightened on Shiro’s ass, eyes screwing shut as he shuddered.

Shiro moved gracefully, and Lance should have known he would be, just judging from the way he looked in battle. He made it look so easy, as he did with all things. Lance was used to that by now of course.

Shiro leaned forward, Lance craning his neck backward and they met hard, mouths hungry and mean. Shiro bit Lance’s lip far too hard, the younger man finding his rhythm, hips snapping up into Shiro’s movements. Shiro was so strong, so warm, so good in the way he bit down on Lance’s lips. The sounds between them were primal things, grunts and groans and nasty words that tumbled off fat tongues. Lance was fairly certain he didn’t even know Shiro had such a colorful vocabulary.

 _“Fuck me harder…”_ Shiro hissed, Galra arm tangling in chocolate locks.

Lance’s fingernails bit angry red marks into the flesh of Shiro’s hips, grasping and scraping, thrusting into Shiro with all he possibly had to give.

Lance was on Shiro then, mouth leaving aggressive little marks across the familiar, broad chest. His hips were sloppy, his teeth were sharp and the sounds coming out of Shiro were absolutely letting him know he was doing a good job.

Lance clutched the bigger man shakily, he couldn’t fight it off for another second. He’d been teetering the edge of orgasm since the very second Shiro had sunk down on him. His head was blurred with the overwhelming ecstasy of it. He couldn’t bring himself back from the brink. He didn’t really want to.

“S-Shiro I can’t…I’m gunna come…” Lance panted heavily.

Shiro’s pace didn’t cease, he only seemed to pick up his speed, his own hand coming to address his livid cock. Lance wanted to question if he’d even heard him, but that slight smile on Shiro’s blissed out face told Lance he had. Lance gasped into the tepid air, holding onto Shiro’s massive form, every muscle in his body tensing mercilessly.

Lance moaned out loudly, a chant of Shiro’s name being the only words he seemed to be able to find in that moment.

Lance bucked upward, searching for more of the warmth from Shiro’s taut body, his vision sparkling as his release swallowed him whole. It was like fireworks having exploded on his skin, flashes of light and sound and pleasure so quick and hot and fast he wasn’t ready.

Lance yelled out, voice bouncing off the interior of the lion, his cock growing fat before finally, finally he was coming. Warm pulsations of finish had Shiro shuddering around his partner’s orgasm, Lance’s cock hitting just perfectly, his own palm doing him right and the black paladin chased Lance’s climax. Lance shivered and chewed his lips as he rocked up into Shiro, riding his release down to its final moments. He could feel the hot stickiness of Shiro’s own finish spackling between them, warm and wet. The big man sagged, allowing his flaccid cock to rest against Lance’s belly, the mess between them heavy and obscene.

Lazy touches from tired bodies were given to one another, Lance’s baby blues finally rolling open to look at his partner, the other man still seated on his spent cock.

“T-That…was a better performance blue paladin…” Lance managed to pant.

Shiro only offered him an exhausted smile.

The lazy kiss he drew Lance in for made up for the entire day.

Lance could easily get used to the stupid, mushy holiday if it ended like this more often.


End file.
